Last weekend I ate my words and finished a race I had said repeatedly I would never run (and I still haven’t run it-ha!). Though our family in Corning, NY had asked us to combine a visit and a race, we had told them no several times. First, I hate the name. I could spend hours telling you about how much I hate alcohol for all it has done to people I love(d), but I won’t. So running the Wineglass Half, even though there was no real connection between the name and the race, wasn’t high on my list– even though I had heard such amazing things about the course (fast and net downhill), the setting (hi Upstate New York in peak leaf season) and the medal (pretty pretty Corning glass). Secondly, as a Sunday race it was off the boards for us because we have been pretty staunch about not doing races that interfere with worship. But way back in February, when my friend Miriam in nearby Elmira had mentioned that the congregation with which she worships doesn’t meet on Sundays until 3:30, it suddenly made the half—even the full– completely doable.

The leaves didn’t get the memo that we came to see them, but it’s still a beautiful course.

So we signed up and planned a family vacation around the race. We got excited. We trained. And then some pesky vertebrae in my back decided to clamp down on a nerve in my neck and lay me out for the 8 weeks prior to the race. There’s no problem with my legs, but the tightening muscles in my back and the tingling in my arm are being “stubborn,” as one provider has put it. More on that in a different post, but after weeks of resting, intensive chiropractic care, Graston and Active Release therapies, it was clear I could not run, I could not run-walk, I could not power walk this race. I left for the trip with a somewhat heavy heart, not knowing if I’d end up with a medal or not, or if I should even try.

But I did know this: it was a great race for a slow finish. The marathon starts 13.1 miles west of the half-marathon course, and a half-hour later, meaning that if I could just stay ahead of the slowest marathoners, I wouldn’t get swept off the course or DNF’d. I knew from an experimental walk that power walking would make the muscles in my upper back angry, and I didn’t want to walk 13.1 at the cost of not being able to run for an even longer period of time. However, I knew from just living life, that I could be mobile and not disturb things. I have strolled with my kids, I have done what needs doing around my house and community without making things worse. So, I wondered, what could be the harm in trying to stroll this race? My husband’s brother and sister-in-law both assured me that they would come get me if I couldn’t make it. So if I could knuckle down mentally and prepare my mind to walk for 4.5 hours (I was toying with 20-minute miles), could I see the course, experience the race, and finish? Could there be any harm in trying? I mean, there are worse ways to spend a morning than walking for multiple hours. At the very least, my husband would have company on the bus to Campbell-Savona High (pro tip: It’s pronounced Camp-Bell and they are very serious about that) and at the start.

Bundled up by the side of a cornfield. He went on to PR, even though he was sorta sick with a cold.

And so I bundled up for the 37-degree start in literally every piece of warm workout-ish clothing I’d brought. Four shirts, two pairs of pants, a beanie, and some borrowed gloves. We got to the high school where they allowed us in to stay warm before the start. This was not communicated well, but it’s important to know: due to the location of the school to the start line, in order to get everyone behind the timing mats, you need to be out there 15 minutes before the start. We didn’t understand that until we were out there, but if you ever do Wineglass, don’t try to stay inside until 5 minutes before the race, or you’ll be hosed.

I hovered on the side of the cornfield near the start and waited to begin with the last runners. The race started and I watched the fasties go by. Then the not-as-fasties. Then the run-walkers. Then the walkers and I crossed the mats. I was a little concerned over the fact that we were in the middle of nowhere and my phone was losing battery fast. No podcasts for me, as I had planned. This could be a long few hours. And that’s when I spotted a woman whose hat had caught my eye earlier. Way up here, in the Finger Lakes region of New York, she was wearing an Atlanta Track Club member cap. I commented on it, and we got to talking.

And that was the game changer for this experience for me. Her name is Camille, and as we got passed by every other half-marathoner and all but the slowest marathoners behind them, we both found support for the nearly five hours we were together. She has an incredible story—she and her cousin are pursuing half-marathon finishes in all 50 states (this was state 11). Michelle runs, Camille walks. But just eight weeks prior to Wineglass, Camille was in the hospital with massive blood clots in both lungs. Though she had her doctors’ clearance to walk the race, she was rightfully nervous and taking it way slower than usual. Just like me. She is from Kentucky but has lived in Atlanta. Just like me. And she had made a goal and wanted to try and see it through, even though it was going to be such a different and potentially defeating experience. Just like me.

So for four hours and 52 minutes (I think? I heard Bart Yasso announce my name at the finish so my chip fired, but my official results aren’t on the website, and I haven’t emailed the race yet because really, what does it matter?), we became just who the other one needed us to be. I was there in case she had any medical issues. She was there to help keep me from pushing and trying to prove something that didn’t need proven that day. We talked about Kentucky, Atlanta, being at the back of the pack, the cows by the side of the road, the horses by the side of the road, the sweepers coming through to pick up the discarded clothes, and the marathoners as they came up by us (so many of them were so encouraging, and as Camille sweetly pointed out, it takes a lot of character to encourage a walker when you yourself are at mile 20 of a marathon). The weather warmed, the landscape changed, and we slowly, slowly got closer to Corning. Her cousin Michelle, long finished, showered, and chipper, came to meet Camille at mile 11.5 and gave us a full finish line report. We rounded the corner on to Market Street and I had to put down the shame that comes so naturally when I am slower than I want to be—the people there don’t know my story, or Camille’s. They don’t know and they frankly don’t care, so why should I? As StoryBrand’s J.J. Peterson says, “WWNSTPA:” We will never see these people again.

Speaking of possibly never seeing someone again, Camille and I finished together and quickly got separated as my family hovered happily nearby and as Michelle waited to wisk her away to a much deserved day of belated-birthday celebrating. But though our paths may never cross again, she leaned thoughtfully over to me before that and said, “I believe God puts in your path the people that you need. Thank you.” And she is exactly right. The support that we need, the people that we need are there, if we only seek them out and accept what they have to offer us. I know with certainty that I could have finished that race on my own, but at what price? I would have spent nearly five hours entirely in my head, going to the dark places: convincing myself that every twinge was another setback, that I would never run again, and that this was my sad last hurrah, somewhere by a cow field in New York. Instead I got to enjoy lovely company and a five-hour stroll through one of the most scenic areas I’ve run in.

“Two are better than one, for they have a greater reward for their labor.” (Ecc. 4:9)

Take your support, friends. Even when it comes in the most unlikely of places, be open to it. You are not alone, and when you have a companion, it makes an arduous journey so much less frightening, and even enjoyable. God designed us for the ultimate relationship with Him, but give us supportive relationships and friendships along the way, and we need to embrace how much more we can do when we don’t go this life alone. Thank you, Camille, for keeping me from the dark places of my head during this race. May God bless your health and may you make your 50-state goal!

DLF > DNF > DNS. So glad I gave this one a go.

(Side note on the race itself: though I hate the name and wish it was run on a Saturday, every reason that it makes a list of great races is true. It was gorgeous even without any noticeable leaf change yet this year. It’s well-organized and has great support. You’ll read race recaps that disdainfully mention that it runs next to an interstate in some parts. That’s true, but the cars honk cheerfully at the runners, and you know what’s surrounding the interstate? Some really, really gorgeous scenery. Be aware of the fact that you need to get out to the start line early, even if you are a back-of-the-packer, and you’ll be just fine.)

We Watermelons piled into Van 2 and headed out of Seattle around noon. We didn’t anticipate starting running until about 6 p.m., and as Runner 11, I likely wouldn’t be on the course until 9. Cue a very leisurely ride to Sandy, OR. Let’s use this time to introduce you to my van-mates.

View from the van on the drive to Oregon.

Runner 7 was the little powerhouse Meghan B. She is from Jersey, she is young (23!), she is confident. Speed honed in youth aside, If her constant smile and can-do attitude is what running competitively in high school and college does for you, then I really hope my daughters continue to run.

Runner 8 was Megan H., also a young’un, also a speedy East-coaster, she writes for Runner’s World and loves the sport. She puts together a lot of the motivational quotes for the RW site, and for good reason–she was very encouraging along the way.

Playing the unfortunate role of Runner 9 was Laura T., a Nuun employee from here in the Atlanta area. She is a rock–a solid runner who attacked all three of her difficult legs and never uttered a word of complaint. She is also so kind and thoughtful–great qualities in a van-mate.

Handing off to me was Runner 10, Lisa M. She is very transparent online so I knew from our Twitter conversations and her blog that she is a genuine, caring person. She also has some knowledge of chronic pain and of injury so for me, she was particularly good to have around as I struggled through the mental and physical strain of doing this race injured.

Runner 11: Yours truly

Our anchor was Devon M., who is just an all-around awesome lady. She is collected and even, and has her head on straight. She is a solid runner, and completely drama-free. Not to mention adorable. I’d like to have a Devon dolly to keep in my pocket just to cheer me up sometimes. 🙂

And let us not forget the fearless Warrior Behind the Wheel: Casey. Nuun CFO and devoted Huskies fan. He drove that 15-passenger van like it was a Miata, and only took out two curbs that we know of.

All the sparkle, none of the drama!

Can I just say how nice it is to have a drama-free van? I’ve been fortunate to have very little van-drama in most of the relays I’ve done, and frankly, I don’t know why anyone would want to create drama. The race hands you enough true, drama–save your energy for that.

About the worst thing that happened along the way was our first trip to Safeway, in which we were denied on our quest to invite Stacy into our van. It’s a relay essential, y’all, and we very nearly did not get them. Luckily all was righted at our next stop and we were pretty much Powered by Stacy for the rest of the relay.

All the Stacy’s

The Nuun bar. All the electrolytes you could desire.

So, here’s the part that tells you how yes, I have a little bit of the sad over being in Van 2. See, Van 2 does not get to go up Mt. Hood. Hence, like half of all Hood-to-Coast-ers, I have no awesome jumping-with-the-mountain-behind-me pics. I get why that is, with traffic going up and down a big ole mountain but if you’ll allow me a moment… *Whine.*

Okay, all done.

We made it to Exchange 6, which was in the parking lot of a Safeway in Sandy. We all got waaaaaay too excited about seeing the Dead Jocks van as we were pulling in. Also, we were cutting it pretty close so we got Meghan all safety-geared up and sent her out on the course to take the slap bracelet baton from Catey.

Look closely and you can see the Dead Jocks van!

Afterward, we gathered everyone who was still there from the Nuun teams together for a picture. Team Lemonade had arrived, all of Watermelon, minus Meghan, was there, and even parts of Nuun’s competitive Team Cherry Limeade were still on site. What I did not realize was that the person who was gathering us for the picture had nothing to do with the teams… except that he is a race director wants a certain member of Team Lemonade to help him promote his race in Oregon. And so, after he’d taken the picture he loudly exulted “Yeah! It’s HOLLY ROBERTS TEAM!!!” and got on the phone to… tell someone he’d been successful in finding her? Who knows, but it was funny. Holly told us what was going on and we giggled and giggled. Since she was so mortified, and since I am just that mean, I pretty much took immediately decided that the #teamhollyroberts needed to became a thing. And so a joke was born. Holly, it was an honor to be on Team Holly Roberts. May it happen again. 🙂

Team Holly Roberts.

Soon after we needed to get on the road to make the next exchange. The two Meg(h)ans are speedy and were on fresh legs. The slap bracelet went from Meghan to Megan to Laura to Lisa and soon I was up. We were pushing it coming into Exchange 10. Dark was coming on, and we stumbled to the exchange not long before Lisa came in.

Lit up for my night run. How cute is the pink Amphipod flower and vest?!?

I was nervous going into this run. Like, nervous to the point that I’d had to really work hard to enjoy the trip up to this point. I will tell you that getting on the plane to Seattle was pretty much one of the most selfish things I’ve ever done. I flat didn’t know if I’d be able to run. I said that know matter what I’d finish the legs–I was not going to let anyone run for me as I’d had to do during Ragnar Chicago. But I didn’t know what price that would come at: Either what I might injure or re-injure, or how much time I’d cost the team. I’d been in a lot of pain during and after Thursday’s Green Lake run. My IT Band is pretty much well, but other parts of my body have been doing a lot of compensating. But my left glute and hamstring were so tight and they were hurting a lot. The top of my right hip has also been acting up, in the form of sharp pain. This is an injury that I’d struggled with in 2012, but which had disappeared after I switched shoes last fall, had suddenly returned about a week before. That said, I do not advocate using a ton of NSAID’s, especially during running. But for this, I took Advil prior to the run, and it got me through. Kisses for you, Advil.

Leg 11 takes you on a paved trail through parts of Portland; mostly industrial. I’m not a huge fan of paved walking trails, as they tend to attract backpack-carrying Hoodie wearers, which is all well and good but who tend to look creepy after dark. Sorry, backpack-carrying hoodie wearers of the world. But there also were several cyclists out there and a lot of runners so it wasn’t too creepy, even though the area was so very industrial. Looking at the satellite of it now, I’m a) glad I didn’t look at the satellite imagery of the area earlier and b) glad I was running it at night or else I’d have been bored looking at the warehouses. The path was traffic-free except where it crossed streets (and the volunteers were pushing the light-change buttons for us) and great to run on, save one thing: The path went by some sort of Food Truck Extravaganza. And yes, it was 9 p.m. and we hadn’t yet eaten dinner. No, I did not stop. Yes, I wanted to.

This run was the best of the three for me, and that ain’t saying much. Everything hurt but I was so, so happy to be out there, and running, and numbed enough by Advil that I could ignore the pain. I came into the exchange happy to be there, happy to be done, and happy to be sending Devon off to finish up our first legs.

Up next in my Leg Two Recap: Don’t Be Cruel, and A Seat at the Table for my Foam Roller.

Before we can get to the actual Running of the Nuunies, we must get to the getting there–that is half the fun, right? My parents in Illinois were to act as child care while I was in the PNW, so the kids and I went to the Midwest a week beforehand to make a vacay of it. On Wednesday before the race, my ever-loving father took me to O’Hare to catch my flight to Seattle.

I had packed…and repacked… and re-repacked, and even re-re-re-packed before I left. I wanted to carry on my bags, and they were stuffed, but I got everything on. Then the flight was delayed, but the folks next to me were already conked out. These people took their sleep VERY seriously. I finally nudged them and went to the bathroom to… stretch? Sure, why not. You can get a really good glute stretch going on in the plane. Just FYI.

Ready to fly: Team Watermelon nails, coffee, wings. Let’s do this.

See? Glute stretch in the bathroom.

I don’t think we’re in Georgia anymore, Toto.

Flight was uneventful, except for… MOUNTAINS!!! I haven’t been to the Northwest ever, so it was incredible to see the mountains from the air. Almost worth having to poke The Sleepers every time I needed to stretch my glutes go to the bathroom.

Upon arrival, Sarah,Meghan, Mallory, Kristen, Karen had all arrived and were nestled near baggage claim, and the awesome Megan was arriving in the Big White Van to take us to Nuun HQ. We got in and were whisked to the Mother Ship, where we met Jolene, Catey and Leslie. Megan told us we had 3 hours to explore Seattle and I immediately rattled off my list of Things I Had to Do. Luckily no one ran screaming from the Highstrung Type A girl, and we headed to Pike Place. Once there, Jolene and I split off from the group to head toward Seattle Center. First we had to stop at the original Starbucks.

Oh wait, that’s not the first Starbucks you say? That’s the Starbucks at First and Pike, you say? Yeah, yeah, yeah, we figured that out later. I’m sure they had a full-on “Code Tourist” snicker about it. Sigh. Visiting Seattle Tip #1: If you ever want to go, I recommend you Google “Original Starbucks Seattle” NOT “First Starbucks Seattle.” Ahem. That problem will be resolved later in our story.

Here’s Westlake Center, where my fictional boyfriend Lloyd Dobler had his ‘controversial first date’ with Diane Court (at least, this was the mall pictured in the movie when Lloyd drove by in the rain). It’s also where we caught the monorail to Seattle Center, home of the Space Needle, the Experience Music Project (EMP), and the Chihuly Garden. Jolene was on a mission to see Buffy’s Mr. Pointy Stake, and I can’t resist a Nirvana exhibit, so EMP won our time first. We made a beeline for Mr. Pointy, then broke the Scream Booth (sorry EMP), then weaved through the Nirvana exhibit. In and out in far too little time; if you are a pop culture fan, it’s definitely worth a lot more than what we gave it.We souvenir shopped at the Space Needle but were running short on time so decided to see the Chihuly Garden instead. I’ve been a fan since he did an installation at the Atlanta Botanical Gardens years ago, and I’ve seen another piece of his in Milwaukee, but this place has just so many pieces of his incredible glass. It was amazing. I find his work to be both breathtaking and accessible, and am awed by the skill it takes to produce it. So pretty.

Jolene and I were having a ball, but running late-ish so we cabbed it back to Nuun and then got to partake in an apparent HQ ritual: A bell is run and it is declared Plank Time! Forearm plank, side plank, other side plank, big plank. Boom and done. If I could just point out that they do this several times a day, and that they don’t make it a competition. It’s just Team Building through Fitness. I really, really, like this company, y’all.

Plank it out.

We were quickly spirited away to The Garage, for some Bowling and food. I was getting pretty tired at this point, and meeting lots and lots of people. I settled in to prove that I am the Master of Being Last at Bowling, and bowled an impressively low 38. No, you may not have my autograph.

Bowling. Talking.

More bowling. More talking. Probably some social media stuff happening there, too.

The next morning I was up for coffee and stretching before we invaded Oiselle headquarters. I was beyond stoked to go to The Nest and see where they all their birdie magic happens. But there was to be a run, and this little bird had butterflies in her tummy. I had said several times I wouldn’t take part in the Green Lake run, but c’mon, it’s GREEN LAKE. They name hoodies after this place! So off we went. My hurts started hurting immediately and I was slow and achy. Seriously, running like an un-spry 80 year old. I want to give slurpy kisses to Zoe, who was in the unenviable position of keeping this from being a no-drop run. Thanks for not dropping me, Zoe. Your gentleness kept me from despair!

Atlantans ready to go to Oiselle. @runladylike and me, smiley.

Sally. Passionate about women in running.

My happy place!

Hands up, wings out?!?

We re-caffeinated with Starbucks and then went back to Oiselle to hear from Sally, the founder of Oiselle, who seems pretty intent on changing the game in women’s running. She’s brilliant. I also got to meet the object of my biggest blog crush, Sarah “Mac” Robinson, who is unlike me in that she is very, very, very fast, but like me in that she writes candidly about injury–a runner after my own heart. Also got to chat some with Dr. Lesko and Kristen Metcalf, so this little runner was a happy girl.

After that: time to Ride the Ducks. This was just… fun. A tour of Seattle and Lake Union aboard an amphibious WWII era vehicle. With a witty driver and tons to see. FUN. As our guide had us say at each and every Starbucks we passed… “Uff da!”

You have to do this when you ride the ducks. It’s like, a law.

Fishermen on a roof.

Pioneer Square.

Need a kilt? I’ve got a lead on some good ones…

Elephant=Car Wash

…and we’re in the water…

Little brown house: the one from Sleepless in Seattle

The other part of #nuunhtc trying to out-dance us. As if.

Holly goofin’ with the Cap’n

The good stuff: Gifties!

Post-duck, we went to Nuun HQ and ate dinner and were presented with a massive amount of fun swag to wear, try, and love. It was like a visit from Nuunta Claus. Nuun bottles, hats, visors. Shirts and jackets from Oiselle. Sunscreen from Naawk, socks from Swiftwick, skirts from Sparkle Athletic, and a Tiger Tail. President and CEO Mason innovative approach to marketing and their commitment to bring athletes together. Yay Nuun! *cheerleader jump*

The next morning, I got up to tell the other Watermelons goodbye. Only Van 1s go to the top of Mount Hood, which grieves me greatly. I get it, that would be literally twice the amount of traffic up the mountain, but this little Runner #11 surely did miss the team time at the start line. But, I waved goodbye as they loaded up and started on their adventure.

Bye… Sniff….

Then I had three hours to kill, so I got a shuttle from the hotel and went back to Pike Place to make things right with the original Starbucks. This time, success! Coffee there, then I explored the market as it woke up to a beautiful summer morning. After gawking at the flowers and fish, I got an espresso and a fancy-pants croissant from a French bakery across the street.

Ah. Yes. That’s more like it. The other one did seem anti-climatic.

Uff da!

So unassuming…

Feeeeeesh.

Les fleurs.

More les fleurs.

Les carbs.

Jitters, coming right up.

I was nearly done with the caffeine-shakes by the time the shuttle dropped me back to the hotel. I rushed around and got myself ready just in time to get in the van and hit the road.

Thank you. Thank you for the most amazing four days of fun. Thank you for showing me and the other Hood to Coast team members the time of our lives. Thank you for getting it–for understanding that endurance athletes want a great experience, and delivering it. First, in making a product that makes achieving our goals easier and more enjoyable by giving us a tasty way to hydrate. And more importantly, for getting that the greatest gift you could give the biggest fans of your product is an unforgettable, amazing experience with other people who feel likewise. We don’t need to see your product in a magazine or billboard.. But we love tasting it at the end of a race, and drinking it with another sweaty athlete, and sharing the Nuun love with others who haven’t experienced it yet.

Thank you for hiring great people who love what they do–people who don’t blink an eye at giving up time and effort to make sure a bunch of us can participate in an epic race like Hood to Coast, people who are willing to give up dinner to make sure that your rungry guests can pig out, people who are thoughtful and kind. Thank you for building relationships with businesses like Oiselle, Amphipod, Endorphin Warrior, Swiftwick, Tiger Tail and Naawk, and then letting us reap the benefit by filling our suitcases with swag.

Mason, thank you for your generosity and hospitality. You made us feel like we belonged there with Nuun, and that is an incredible thing to do for 30+ far-flung strangers.Megan, thank you for the countless hours you put into communicating with us, organizing complicated itineraries, and making sure we were so well taken care of. I’m sure I don’t know the half of what you did, but I do know that you did it all well, and with a smile on your face. I can’t thank you enough.
Jay, Vishal, Jeantel, and Jeff, who all drove vans, thank you for foregoing sleep to make sure your vans only had to worry about running, not fighting traffic.

Casey, (who drove my van) thank you for being a rock for Team Watermelon Van 2. Your experience and confident know-how helped us make each exchange with ease and kept us free from drama and too many curb roadkills.Zoe, thank you for always smiling big and encouraging us big, too. You rock.Laura, you repeatedly gave up your own comfort for all of us on W2. You ran long and hard, and still played the role of host with a smile. You are a helper and I am grateful for you.Lauren, you were a fearless leader and laugh-generator for Team Lemonade. Thank you.

Team Watermelon, you dominated Hood to Coast. Thanks for letting me in on the fun.

Megan, Thank you for always being positive and upbeat, and for being a total track nerd. You are a mermaid.

Meghan, Thank you for showing me what running as a teenager does for a young woman. You inspire me to make sure my daughters run.Lisa, There are no words. I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you for caring.Devon, Thank you for being a model of drive and responsibility. You are steady and strong and I appreciate you!

Mallory, you are a fierce warrior. Thank you for being your own person.Kara, your zest for life is contagious. Thanks for bringing the fun.Hannah, thank you for your positivity and your obvious run love.Sarah, thank you for choosing to do hard things. You are a powerhouse, and just incredible.Catey, thank you for showing us how a hardcore mother runner gets it done–with a smile every time.

Team Lemonade, thanks for being the faithful compadres of Team Watermelon. Every time we got to see you, it made the race that much more special.

Leslie, thank you for making us all laugh and for keeping things real as well. Also, for your encouragement you’ve always given on blog posts and Twitter.Lisa, thank you are for being so warm and kind. I enjoyed every encounter, and wished for more.Jolene, you are an amazing woman. Steely. Yet your openness and warmth and willingness to help care for everyone around you were a gift to us all.Andrea, thank you for always having a smile on your face and a funny remark.Kristen, thank you for being a bright, sunny encouragement both online and IRL.Kimberly, thank you for speaking my language–your self-deprecating sarcasm gets an A+ in my book.Karen, thank you for being calm and steady and determined.Jesica, thank you for inspiring me and so many others to overcome challenges and run longer and stronger. So glad we can have mini-reNuunions in ATL.Holly B., thank you for being a sweet, kind spirit.Holly R, thank you for being such a great ambassador for the sport of running, and for allowing me to bask in the glory of #TeamHollyRoberts.

Team Cherry Limeade, you ladies ran fast and worked so very hard and I know you inspired people on the teams and out on the course. Dorothy, Robyn, Katie, Jenny, Julia, Sara, Paige, Emily, Tanaya, Alison, Tere, Jen, thanks for using your athletic prowess to spread the Nuun love.

There is so much more to share and say, but I wanted to start with the most important part. THANK YOU NUUN, for an incredible weekend. Thank you all.

Like this:

Well, I’m all packed!!! Let’s go! Where’s the van?!? I’m ready to run Hood to Coast in… 8 more days. Yeah. Still got a little while.

In my defense, I have actually already left home to go on my HTC adventure. The kids are staying with my parents in Chicago while I runcation, so we left Tuesday so we can visit some family and friends in the midwest before landing at the homestead.

Which meant I had to pack early. BEFORE THE 10 DAY FORECAST was available. I am a 10-Day-Forecast-Stalking-Enthusiast, so this caused me no small amount of displeasure. However, we were driving (read: lots of space), so I was able to throw in a lot of stuff that won’t necessarily make the final cut when it’s time to get on the plane. Here’s the initial stack. I’m on team watermelon, so, lots of pink.

We have been warned about overpacking. I mean, they haven’t threatened to withhold the Nuun or anything but I’ve relayed enough to know: you always need less than you think, except when you need That Thing You Didn’t Think You Would Need. I have dug out my old backpack from my Appalachian Trail hiking days and am planning to carry-on to Seattle. I’m also planning to take three pairs of running shoes, as I was recently informed that it takes 24 HOURS for shoes to get their ‘springiness’ back after a run. All of which means… I must muster some major packing ninja skills in the next six days.

In light of that, I am trying to be REALLY self-controlled about what I will bring to wear when we are not at Hood to Coast itself. We will have Wednesday to see Seattle, with dinner & bowling at what I am sure is a far-hipper-than-me establishment. Then on Thursday, a visit to Oiselle HQ (yeah, I know. *dies*), a run at Green Lake, and then we will be Riding the Ducks. I’m expected to wear clothes for all that, right? But, I, who struggles with being cold except on the hottest of Atlanta days, will put my fashionable pride aside to be warm during the night at Hood to Coast. I will be warm at Hood to Coast, I will be warm at Hood to Coast, I will be warm at Hood to Coast…even if I have to sacrifice style in Seattle–Seattle of all places!– to do it.

*chanting* I will be warm at Hood to Coast, I will be warm at Hood to Coast, I will be warm at Hood to Coast. I can do this, people. I can do it.

Complicating matters, is my little technology addiction. I LOVE our videos from Ragnar, and so I’ve got two GoPros, gadgets to affix them to both things and people, another video camera, chargers for the cameras… Plus a power converter and a wifi hotspot. That’s a lot of gizmos for one backpack.

I suppose at some point I should study my legs, but I think they’re all pretty straightforward, on trails and country roads without many turns (huzzah!). Simple and somewhere in the 4-5-7 range, mileage-wise. I’m not too concerned–roll me out if the van and I will run. I’m runner 11, so if YOU would like to study my legs and report back, please, feel free.

I’ve finally let myself get excited about the race, something I wasn’t sure would happen while I was trying to recover. I’m more undertrained than I would like, but it’s better to be undertrained than injured. And what I’ve lost in training, I hereby solemnly promise to make up for in witty van banter and amusing tweets and Instagram pics for all to enjoy. Deal? Deal. Now, I’m off to go purge my packing list…

I will be warm at Hood to Coast, I will be warm at Hood to Coast, I will be warm at Hood to Coast. I will…

This marks the first time in three years that I attended the Wisconsin Marathon but didn’t run it (the half, anyway). Back in January, I had decided to forego it in lieu of running the Soldier Field 10-miler in late May, with my sister and Kristiana. I knew I’d miss it but figured I’d deal. However, after my dear friend Katie narrowly missed qualifying for Boston in February at Myrtle Beach, it came up again as an option for another try for her, and ended up being the race she decided on. Since I know the course (half of it, anyway) and the area, and since I love a good runcation, I quickly volunteered to go with her for race support, and to drag Kristiana (who got me into running in the first place) along for the ride.

We flew into Chicago on Friday morning and picked up Kristiana at her (amazing, 39th floor) place before heading straight for Kenosha. I was super duper (hi, i’m in 3rd grade) excited to show Katie so much of the Upper Midwest that I adore so we immediately started packing everything we could into the trip. We stopped first at the Lake Forest Oasis, because they just don’t build large rest stop/gas station/Starbucks combos over the interstate in Georgia. I went with a risky choice for lunch–chicken kebabs from a no-name Greek place and enjoyed them with a view of… cars.

Katie and Jake

The Blues Brothers and Me.

Chicago was dreary Friday. But still beautiful.

Kebabs. On the Interstate.

We crossed the border into Wisconsin and headed toward packet pickup. Just off the interstate, we saw the Jelly Belly factory and store and stopped in to get goodies for children: Jelly-Belly Uno games and toasted marshmallow jelly beans. I also picked up some very strangely colored “Irregular” Jelly Belly Sport Beans for a little bit of nothing. Jelly beans. This trip was already going well.

Tourists. Jelly Belly Tourists.

Jelly beans

Packet pickup for this thing was short and sweet, one of the things I love about this race. It took about 7 minutes total. Then we drove the course, so Katie would know what to expect, and since I wanted to see the other half of it. After that, it was off to the hotel to settle in and get dinner. We ate at the restaurant in our hotel, The Chancery, which is a local chain that has a lot of Wisconsin specialties–five cheese French onion soup, cheese curds, and lots of beef. Kristiana and I both got a grass-fed Angus burger, no bun, with sweet potato tots, and man, it was good. Katie got -shocker- pasta, and should you choose to eat at The Chancery before this race, you should know that the portion sizes are smallish, so order a large. After dinner we hit up Walgreens for some toiletries and poster board and then went back to get Katie race-ready. I snuck in my mile to continue my run streak, made some signs, and then put Katie’s name on her shirt with KT Tape so she’d have support when Kristiana and I weren’t around. Then it was lights out in preparation for a 5AM wakeup call.

The race was on May 4th. Get it?

The next morning went smoothly and we were at the race start by 6:20. Katie warmed up and Kristiana and I found Kim, who is a fellow Nuun Hood to Coast teammate this year. She was ready to go for a PR in the 1/2 marathon but sweetly met up with me and we had a few minutes to chat. I loved getting to meet another of the ladies that I’ll be running with in August.

Kim and me! Next time I see her we’ll be ready to run HTC!

Soon it was time for Katie to get in her corral and we walked her toward the start. The race lets people wearing cheese-related apparel into the first “corral” (truth be told, there are no corrals in this race, just a self-seeded start) and so it was fun to get a chance to see that, for once, since I wasn’t lined up behind them. After a moment of silence for Boston, a round of applause for the first-responders, and the National Anthem, they were off. I started my Garmin as I watched Katie cross the mats, rang the cowbell a few times, and then headed for the Harborside Coffeehouse. With a 7AM start in May, it was pretty chilly at the start, and coffee is always good. Plus, the coffee shop sits at the 4.5-mile and 11-mile mark for both the 1/2 and the full, so it’s a great place to cheer without having to be terribly mobile.

Cheese runners.

That’s Katie in fluorescent yellow hat the middle of the picture.

The view of the lake near the coffeehouse.

We got coffee and watched the leaders go by. Actor Mark Ruffalo is from Kenosha, and his brother Andy is usually in the top two finishers for the Wisconsin Marathon Half. So if you’re watching the leaders in the race, you get to see the sibling of a famous person. Hey, hey!

Soon it was 7:30 and we went outside to watch for Katie. She came through looking strong and we held up our signs and yelled and yelled. Then we kept cheering for a bit, until we saw my friend Angie come by, and Kim too. We had made double-sided signs–one side just for Katie and the other for everyone else, and so we spread some good cheer around until we got cold and holed up in the coffeeshop again.

Kristiana and I had a few minutes to visit before Katie came back through at mile 11. She was perfectly on pace, looking strong and as happy as I’ve seen her look when she’s focused (one of her great strengths is race focus, in my opinion). After she passed, Kristiana and I headed to the car to shed some layers since we both had some running of our own to do. Kristiana is in the early stages of planning for the Paris 10-miler (illness set aside her plans to do Soldier Field, unfortunately) and was going to do 5 miles before heading to the finish to watch for Katie. My job, was to get myself to mile 23 to try and run Katie in the last part of the race. I say try because her planned pace (8:15) would mean that 3.2 miles would be major PR pace for me. I’d been training for it, but I was nervous.

I used the 3 mile distance between downtown and the 23-mile mark as a nice, long warmup. I’ve run in this part of Wisconsin many times, while visiting friends, running this race, and doing Ragnar Chicago. I just love it. Scenic and flat, and particularly when the weather is nice, there’s just no place nicer.

I got to the mile 23 mark with about 15 minutes to spare so I cheered and yelled for the runners. Saw my friend Tracy’s husband Jon, who I wasn’t expecting and who I’m sure had NO clue who I was, but I hollered for him anyway. ‘Cause that’s what I do!

I saw Katie round the corner about .25 away, and yelled really loud and cheerleader kicked for her. As she came closer I realized my cheering time had taken its toll on my warmup, and that I needed a little head start to work up to her pace. I started to run as she came toward me. My Garmin was not giving me pace info–something about having the time on it run for so long when we weren’t moving at the start seemed to make it not want to give me a pace when I was moving. So I have no real idea how fast I was going. I can run 9:00 miles and 10:00 miles by feel. Faster than 9:00 miles and I don’t really know how fast I’m going. But it seemed like it was taking her longer to get to me than it should have. So I slowed.

She caught me quickly after that but as soon as I saw her, I could tell things were not good. She has agreed to write a blog post about the race that I’ll post later this week. We had not gone but about .5 when she tearfully said, “Not today, Lindsay. Not today.” I am rarely without words but I was not prepared to hear that. That’s how well-trained she was. I’d watched her training logs on Daily Mile. I’d seen her run. There had not been a doubt in my mind that she would get this BQ done. So, I wracked my brain for the right words. I worked on being encouraging to her regarding finishing, without being so over-the-top Pollyanna that she would want to punch me.

The last 3.2 miles were very hard for her. I’m so proud of her for finishing that race. I was very worried about her and honestly wouldn’t have blamed her a bit for walking off that course. Something went wrong, and while that is frustrating, I think the hardest thing for her, and even me, to deal with is that no one is quite sure *what* went wrong. I know that is the nature of the marathon. All the planning and training in the world can’t guarantee a race of that distance will go smoothly.

For better or for worse, we made it to the finish line. I had not planned to cross the finish line with her, but obviously plans changed on a number of levels, and I couldn’t leave her alone. We got her medal, foil, and food, and I took her to Medical. I wasn’t sure if it was necessary, but I have also been close enough to nutrition and dehydration situations to know that I’d feel better if she got checked out before we went on our way that day. I couldn’t return her to her husband and kids broken!

Thankfully, medical cleared her pretty quickly, and she was even smiling about 15 minutes later. There were tears in there, too, but she seemed herself again (make no mistake, unlike baseball, there is ALWAYS crying in the marathon). It’s always cold after this race–the finish line is right up on the lakefront, and the wind can be fierce. We headed toward the car pretty quickly.

Friends nearby in Racine welcomed us into their homes for showers and scones, and then for lunch. We spent the rest of the afternoon with them, and it was relaxing. After loading up the car with Kringle from O & H and cheese curds from the Mars Cheese Castle in Kenosha, we headed back to Chicago. We grabbed dinner from the Lincoln Park Whole Foods–third largest in the country, with far more . We ate and went to bed. I know, it’s a wild life we live.

This pretty much sums up how happy the Wisconsin Marathon makes me.

Cheesiness in front of the Cheese Castle.

Sunday morning Katie and I went for a recovery run by the lake. We shuffled through three miles and then did some good stretching before heading to the ‘burbs to worship with my parents and model the latest in runner fashion: Katie’s compression socks under a maxi-dress combo. It was so good to see my parents. After church we went to Portillo’s to have lunch, and Katie got to have her first Chicago dog. We also made a quick stop by Naperville Running Company, where I found a special-edition Oiselle tee and some cherry-limeade Nuun, while Katie and Kristiana both got fitted for new shoes. I think Katie also got to have some good race analysis with the awesome gentleman fitting her. Thank, NRC!

This shirt is as soft as it is adorable. And that Nuun stuff is pretty good too, you know.

All that was left then was to come home. We’d pretty much done as much stuff as three runners can do in 52 hours or so. The “A” Goal of getting Katie to Boston was not achieved. But the goal of having a great time? That was met in spades. Another runcation success, in the books.

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